


I Found My Tentacular Sweetheart Eating Intestines on the Floor

by MycroftWatts



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gore, Guts - Freeform, Offscreen Violence, established relationship with spawn of Cthulhu, there is a mess on the floor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:13:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MycroftWatts/pseuds/MycroftWatts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the narrator comes home only to find her sweetie pie eating the remains of a notorious criminal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Found My Tentacular Sweetheart Eating Intestines on the Floor

I found my tentacular sweetheart  
Eating intestines on the floor.  
I think I must have fainted,   
Seeing him wallow in fresh gore.

For aye I knew who and what he was,  
I knew all that had gone before,  
But I denied all of it even to myself  
Until the day of the intestines on the floor.

"My dear," he said, when I came to,  
"No need to pity him who is no more.  
I brought him down in Covent Garden,   
Yea, I brought the scum to the floor."

"Who's he," I asked, "that he is scum  
And so can be allowed to live no more?  
A thief, a killer, a perfumed procurer of maids?  
And here his remains defile our floor."

"My heart," quoth he, "he peddled poison  
Fit for neither man nor beast. In his store  
He carried powders and potions to ensnare the senses.  
And that is why his remains clutter up our floor."

I did not weep for the late poisoner,   
Though I thought I must be mad.  
The evidence my sweetheart ate on the floor  
Disappeared before my face bit by bit.

The strain must have shown on my face,  
The ghostly pallor and dark dolor,  
For he said, "Darling, I'll remove any trace  
Of your grisly memories of the floor."

"No, dearest," said I. "I'd rather keep them,  
Grisly mementoes, trophies of war,  
And have my friends think me mad  
Than erase any memories of the floor."

I found my tentacular sweetheart  
Eating intestines on the floor,  
And the simple life as I knew it  
Was of a sudden gone out the door.

Each criminal my darling catches  
Meets his fate on that same floor,  
And I have my hands full mopping  
The mess he makes with the gore.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a notebook full of drabbles inspired by BBC Sherlock, and this title came up while I was writing (Sherlock goes steampunk and wears a feathered hat, much to John's dismay). It was supposed to be a song, but I'm not sure how singable it actually is. Courtesy of The Society of Steam-Powered Idiots (formerly The Society of Brass Antinomians).


End file.
